


Boat and Basket

by orphan_account



Category: The Terror (2018 TV series), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Banter, Fluff, Lunch date, M/M, siren!Fitzjames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 23:37:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14436618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A mysterious beast with flowing hair and a glittering tail has become the talk aboard the H.M.S. Terror. Marine, cabin boy and deck hand alike often stopped to glance over the side of the ship in a desperate chance to see its mysterious ways. Francis smiled at the crews bewilderment. To him, this beast was no mystery. In fact, He had a date with it just this morning.





	Boat and Basket

**Author's Note:**

> for some reason the last few paragraphs will not .? indent. . . . . so rather than trying to figure out how to fix it im gonna blame it on ao3 CURSE YOU AO3

          The day was calm and windless, as Francis had hoped. It made sir John grumble, as he fancied a constant speedy push to his ships. Francis didn't know why; it wasn't like the arctic would be going anywhere anytime soon. Besides, Francis's hopes were up for a different reason. He asked mister Collins to lower a rowboat for him. Collins thankfully did not ask why, although he probably new his intentions. Crewmen on the lower decks told starry eyed tales of seeing a glimpse of glittery tail or silken hair churning in the rough besides the boat. Everyone (that is, besides Irving who very angrily insisted that it was just a fish and no supernatural beast of any kind whatsoever so stop pestering him about it or he'll spear the damned thing) had their eyes ever silently peeled for wherever this creature may be. Francis scoffed pridefully.  
          He (perhaps over)dressed himself today. He wore a golden vest with embroidered red flowers over a frilly white shirt with a colorful necktie. He finished the look with a neat straw hat and stopped for a brief moment to admire himself in the mirror. Half of him said he looked truly ridiculous with his older, awkward body stuffed into such a young outfit. The other half brushed it off and continued out the door. He held a large picnic basket in his hand, its contents tied in a gentle pink fabric. He squinted his eyes as he reached the deck. It was a very bright day; The water glittered around the boat as it danced its eternal swirl and the sky burned a magnificent clear blue.  
          He gently lowered himself onto the inferior rowboat.  
"Go ahead," Francis called.  
          Thomas Jopson peered nervously over the side of the boat and held the basket over the edge.  
"I won't cry over a few smashed crackers, Jopson. Just toss it."  
          Jopson closed his eyes and dropped the basket. Francis quickly snatched it out of the air before it plunged into the sea.  
"Thank you!" Francis called up.  
          He scooted to a more comfortable spot on the boat. The smaller rowboats rock was much more noticeable, making it a sort of inconvenient place to have lunch. Truthfully, Francis had already eaten his real lunch. He just brought a small satchel of cheese and crackers to stave off any hunger that might come. He untied the neat bow in the basket and unfolded the fabric and paper underneath. It was a pile of raw fish freshly caught earlier this morning. The smell hadn't developed quite yet, but their slimy feel still made Francis's lip curl.  
          He looked up suddenly as a splash erupted not too far off. The water rounded out as a magnificent green sparkle came into view. Francis's cheeks warmed and his lips pulled into a smile.  
"Morning, dear." Francis called over the side of the boat.  
          A white face rose from the blue-green depths as James broke through the water. Flicks of seawater sprayed Francis's face as he thrust himself out of the blue and gripped the side of the boat. James pulled himself up to rest his chin on the dark wood.  
"Well, Don't you look nice." James's velvet voice mused.  
          Even when he wasn't singing, James's voice was a little entrancing.  
"Oh, this?" Francis tugged at his vest.  
"Oh, that?" James teased.  
          His dark hair flattened around his head and shoulders as he left the water, but the ends that reached the base of his tail still fluttered angelically in the sea.  
Francis caught himself staring again. How could he not? James was so unnaturally gorgeous. His skin glowed with an inhuman perfection and his features were sculpted with masterful care. Of course, this attractiveness had a morbid purpose, but wasn't enough to sway Francis's admiration. Aside from his long tail, equipped with three fins that curled and waved dreamily in the water, the only thing that stood out were the bright scarlet gills on James's neck. They flittered occasionally, telling James it was time for another dip into the water. He blinked away from his ogling to grab the basket.  
"Em-- " he looked back at James with a glint in his eye.  
"Have you eaten yet? Anytime recently, I mean."  
          Francis learned that merfolk like James went long periods without food due of the natural scarcity of pray in the vast ocean. And since their pray was usually larger animals, they ate an excessive amount of food in one sitting and then sank, full and tired to the bottom to digest it all. Francis hoped that one basket of mackerel was enough. Francis had the same fish grilled for lunch earlier, so it held a sort of sentiment. Francis learned very quickly that James did not, to put it lightly, _prefer_ prepared meat.  
"As a matter of fact, I haven't." James purred. Francis hummed in response, reaching into the basket and pulling out a glimmering mackerel.  
"Ooh," Francis teased. "Doesn't that look good."  
          James snorted. "I'm not a dog, Francis."  
"Really? What if I-" Francis then flung the fish far out into the water. James immediately shot after it, pushing off the boat with such force that it drifted in the opposite direction. Francis laughed heartily as he watched James disappear into the blue.  
          James broke the water a short while after.  
"I suppose you think you're funny." James wiped his mouth.  
"I do." Francis's laugh died down and he stared at James with a pleasant smile.  
           He continued to drop fish off of the side of the boat all afternoon, watching James slip down to grab them. They spent a few minutes in silence, admiring the calm stillness of the air around them.  
"Why do you call me James?" He piped up.  
"Because I can't pronounce whatever your real name is."  
James spoke his aquatic angel tongue, a polyphonic clipping of song notes and gurgles. The noise ended with an inquisitive curl.  
"Yes, that."  
"Why _James_ , though? Do you call every siren you meet James?"  
"Youre the only siren I know, so yes."  
"I think i'd like to be called Francis." James joked.  
          Francis huffed a laugh.  
"You'd make a far better Francis, dear. Unfortunately, some flabby old sailor is already sitting on that name."  
"I haven't seen him" James hummed.  
"He'll show up eventually."  
James slid back under the water and emerged on the other side of the boat. Francis scooted the basket near the edge of the boat so James could occasionally reach in and grab fish. Francis dug his hand underneath the fabric and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a crystal cut glass. He uncorked the bottle and poured himself an excessive serving, the rocking of the boat accidentally causing a drop to splash onto his light pants.  
"Damn!" Francis groaned at the stain. Well, it wasn't like he was going to wear this again any time soon. James watched as Francis downed the amber liquid.  
"Does that taste good?" James lazily hung his arms over the side of the boat, laying his head on his shoulders.  
          Francis scoffed.  
"Gods no. Warms me up, more like. Softens up anything that's been poking me throuought the day."  
          James stared curiously.  
"I can assure you, you will not like it."  
          James didn't budge. Francis swirled his glass before thrusting it towards James.  
"Dont say I didn't warn you."  
           James pushed himself up more, grabbing the glass in his wet hands. He shook the liquid around in the glass. He threw it back, gulping down a mouthful. Francis winced. James face immediately screwed. He dropped the glass and spit out the liquid almost immediately into the boat.  
"Come on now!" Francis scooted away from the mess.  
"Youve got the whole bloody ocean to spit in!"  
James called out in disgust.  
"That's horrid! That's so much worse than I thought!" James shook his head and sputtered like a dog who tested fate and licked a lemon.  
" 's not as bad as gin." Francis muttered as he wiped off the glass.  
"I don't think you enjoy that."  
Francis flinched internally.  
"I don't either." Francis looked for a way of changing the subject.  
"Say- How would you say 'Francis' in your language?"  
"Do you want to hear that, or the word I actually use to refer to you when I talk about you?"  
"Is the same one as 'fresh meat'?"  
"Awfully presumptuous of you to consider yourself _fresh_ meat."  
"Oi."  
The two bickered for a while, the basket of fish slowly dwindling down to its ends. Francis picked up the last one and lazily threw it towards the sunset. He noted that the sunset meant he had been out here for far more than just lunch, but Francis didn't care. He could spend his life in this boat With, this basket of fish, and this beautiful siren to keep him company. He watched the green glimmer of James's tail spark brighter than the glitter of the water around. Francis put his feet up and his hands back and relaxed. The gentle swishing of the water as James swum around the boat lulled Francis into a doze.  
"I wish you could come swim with me."  
James request woke Francis back up. He furrowed his brow in silence. Therein lay the layer of suffocation between them. Francis could never have the joy of taking James to the theater or preparing him a large dinner. He could never fall asleep next to James. He could never roll over in the morning to see his magnificent cascade of brown hair rise and fall as it draped his sleeping body. All he had was his boat and his basket. James could never have the joy of drifting in the endless, motherly blue with Francis or winding through bustling coral reefs as smaller fish picked off old scales and algae. He could never show him the otherworldly beauty of crystal caves or the addicting comfort of a thermal jet massage. All he had was Francis and his mackerel. Both men blinked away the gentle heartache and dozed back off.  
Francis opened his eyes to see the first glint of stars in the sky. He looked to James. The siren rested on his arms, his eyes gently closed.  
Francis reached out to stroke his calloused hand on James smooth face. James blinked awake.  
"Tired?"  
James nodded.  
"Was that enough fish?"  
James hummed "I suppose it'll do."  
"Well, I should get back to my ship."   
"Ill miss you, Francis."  
Francis sighed.  
"I know, darling. I can't eat lunch with you every day. You know if I could I would."  
James didn't respond. He sank down to his nose and watched as Francis tidied up the basket and tucked it under his arm.  
"Jopson!" He called back up.  
Meanwhile on deck, Jopson sat sunburnt and asleep in his nook on the side of the boat. Francis continued his calls until someone on the deck kicked Jopson awake.  
James poked hopefully out of the water.  
"Well, looks like you'll just have to st-"  
"Jopson, there you are!" Francis cut him off.  
Jopson gasped loudly at the sight of James.  
"C-Captain, look! The beast!" Immediately, more heads peeked over the side of the boat. James vanished into the water with a loud splash.  
"James--" Francis called out quietly. He stared out at the open waters.  
"Did you see it?" Jopson called.  
Francis grumbled. "Are you going to help me up or should I just get comfortable down here?"  
Jopson obeyed and soon Francis was back on deck.  
"Its hair was all around it, captain. It- it looked like an angel."  
"You're seeing what you want to see, Jopson." Francis handed Jopson the basket and began the walk back to his quarters. Don't you think I would've seen it on my own if it were right there?"  
"Sir, it-" Jopson stopped himself and stepped obediently after Francis.  
Francis sat in his nightclothes, tapping his glass of whiskey on the table to pass the time. Jopson inspected the small stain on Francis's trousers and frowned. "Why'd you get so dressed up today, sir?" "For James."  
"Oh." Jopson folded the stained trousers and tucked them under his arms. He thought for a moment and then looked up. "... James?"


End file.
